By Sophia Madeb, Arts and Culture Editor
There was a pivotal point in my life when I started refusing to leave the house without makeup, even if it was merely applying mascara to my eyelashes or a clear, sticky lip gloss on my lips. To this day, I rarely leave my house without my essential tools: an eyelash curler to maintain their much-needed lifted position, and some kind of lip product, whether it be a liner, tint, stick, or, obviously, my favorite, gloss.
Some people will probably find this relatable. Others may bat their unlifted eyelashes with concern, wondering what this obsession is with makeup. Why do some find the need to wake up extra early to “bake” their face, like a cake, with setting powder, or apply copious coats of goop to their lips, only for a small gust of wind to glue their hair directly to them? These seemingly overwhelming questions left me wondering what makeup does for us as a society, as well as the way it shaped my own self-image.
Makeup can be a beautiful form of self-expression, associated with moments of happiness and nostalgia. But at the same time, its damaging effects have been brought to my vanity light with time and nearly 20 years of experience.
Whether you love it or hate it, makeup has always been in the lives of young women, even before they really think about it. For those of us who grew up in the 2000s, trips to the mall were as much a childhood experience as fearing monsters under the bed and dreaming of staying up past bedtime. Every time my sisters and I went to the mall, we would run straight to arguably the best store of that era, Justice. There, we would head to the makeup section, examining various lip kits that smelled strongly of fruits or soda and, of course, always had lots of sparkles. Eye shadow palettes were always the second option for me, with those same scents and even more glitter.
Each palette was about 10 to 15 dollars, and my mom would buy each of us one kit. On the drive home, the backseat transformed into a makeup studio as we gave each other what we thought were mature makeovers. Sometimes, as I apply my concealer, I remember the days when I did not need to worry about breakouts, only breaking out the Justice makeup kits and the boxes of old Purim costumes, feeling like a princess in a polyester blue Cinderella dress with excessive layers of blue eyeshadow on my eyelids.
The makeovers did not stop here. There were times when my friends and I would quietly sneak into my mom’s room to play with the “real makeup,” twisting expensive glass tubes open and roughly applying the products to our faces. We would play pretend we were adults heading to business meetings with uneven blush on our faces and very dark lipstick everywhere except on our lips.
As the years progressed, there were less times to simply play with makeup, as things got more confusing. Suddenly, we, as a society, entered an era where we were told to stay locked inside their homes for an extended period with no exact end date. As COVID-19 swept the world, two weeks turned into two months, and I had nothing to do except watch TikTok videos of girls trying eccentric makeup challenges and styles. As another option, if I felt like watching a longer video, I turned to YouTube, mindlessly watching “beauty gurus” doing their makeup.
Although if I were tired of that, I would spend hours of my days shamefully browsing on my new favorite store Sephora. I always kept my eye out for the new trending lip glosses, which inevitably found their way to my cart. It was not good for my parents’ wallet, but during such uncertain times, it was one of the few things that kept me sane, reminding me I could still express myself only for myself, feeling beautiful even if it was swiping on a Laneige lip mask before bed or just for fun while my teachers were lecturing on Zoom.
Once I was freed from the prison cell of quarantine, I entered my freshman year of high school. Rather than breaking out into the world, I was just breaking out. As high school began, so did the phase that most girls hate to see coming: acne. It completely changed the way I presented myself. It made me feel like “less.” Less beautiful than the women online putting on foundation over their flawless skin. Less beautiful than the girls walking past me in the school hallways. Simply less.
So, I covered myself. I concealed myself with pounds of makeup. It gave me a sense of confidence, but it felt artificial. The moment I got home, swiping off the loads of foundation, concealer and bronzer, the smoke and mirrors began to disappear. I was uncovered. The illusion was gone, leaving behind a person I did not want to face.
My mom would constantly tell me that the makeup I wore was only making it worse. She was most likely right, but it felt so wrong to not wake up every morning an hour earlier than everyone else to do my intricate makeup routine: from underpainted concealer beneath my foundation, a trick I learned online to help hide redness, to my bronzer-blush combination, another great hack I got from a stranger online to not feel so pale in the winter.
The more makeup I wore, the more I broke out, leading me to feel worse about myself. Makeup lost its sparkle. It was no longer the fun activity my sisters and I did in the backseat, or the silly memories of sneaking into my mom’s room to use her makeup to feel like an adult. I was all grown up, but I wished I could just go back to using makeup the way I did when I was younger, playfully, not desperately.
As high school went on, I started seeing a dermatologist, who taught me the importance of keeping myself healthy, not just to maintain clear skin but for the sake of my hair and body as well. My dermatologist explained that certain foods and products do not work well with my skin. Over time, as I stuck with my routine, staying away from certain things, I began to notice something shift. I looked better, but I also felt better. I felt beautiful with and without makeup, reclaiming a spark of confidence.
Today, as a college student, I still wear makeup. But it is no longer a way to hide. Now I wear it because it’s fun. I love waking up in the morning, listening to some music, and drinking my coffee while applying Drunk Elephant bronzing drops, giving me a bronzy glow, curling my lashes with my favorite curler I once picked up in a Super-Pharm in Israel, and of course reaching for my go-to liner and gloss combo. I start my day with good intentions manifested through preparation and creating a greater presentation.
A morning routine, makeup included, helps me start the day right. It makes me feel confident enough to take on life’s challenges. Sometimes it is easier to go into a day with your lashes curled and lips freshly glossed, even when the wind inevitably tangles my hair up on them.
In this view, after my reflection, to hopefully answer the question, makeup, like most things, is a double-edged sword. It can be used to make people feel beautiful, but it can also make individuals see themselves as less. Therefore, it should be stated that makeup can be seen for both embracing its positive and understanding its negative attributes.
Ultimately, leading to the satisfying point that just as lawyers wear suits to court and doctors wear scrubs to surgery, I, like many people in the world, wear makeup. We all wear things as a way of moving through society, as modes of societal expression. What we wear becomes a way of showing up to the world of who one is as an individual and how one wants to be seen by others. In that light, for me, makeup operates in the same way, not to feel less, but enhanced. It is not just about appearance but presentation, feeling like a proper and upstanding person prepared for any obstacles, challenges or occasions life has to offer.
Photo Credit: Courtesy of Sophia Madeb